Time for a Fiction in 58, an exercise in brevity.
He feels it in every creaky joint, the pains that radiate up his spine – the sins of his past. He limps into the bath, urinates while reaching for a bottle of pills. Both are a response to growing old. He doesn’t turn on the light. He’s fearful of the reflection, the old man that’s replaced his vigor.
Full Wolf Moon-Part Eleven
1 hour ago